


The Surrender

by RavenAurelieChoiseau



Category: Pisaac - Fandom, Stargent - Fandom, Stetopher - Fandom, Teen Wolf (TV), steter - Fandom
Genre: A little angst, Angst, Blood Drinking, Boys Kissing, Canon Divergent, Come Shot, Cum shot, Fluff, Forehead Touching, Grinding, Hand Jobs, Human/Vampire Relationship, Is Isaac sad?, Isaac is human, Love Confessions, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Peter Hale is King, Peter Hale is a Softie, Pining, Romantic Fluff, Sex, Vampire Characters based on TW characters, Vampires, romantic feelings, threesome implied
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-05
Updated: 2018-12-05
Packaged: 2019-09-12 04:57:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,544
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16866559
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RavenAurelieChoiseau/pseuds/RavenAurelieChoiseau
Summary: Based loosely on my other fic "No More Lonely Nights," this is a first-person POV from Isaac's perspective. Isaac is a Surrender, a human who has been born into the service of vampires as a sex slave and source of food. Some are born into this and others choose to become one willingly later in life.Isaac is in love with his vampire King, Peter Hale. Unfortunately for him, Peter must share his Surrender with his two lovers and Princes, Christopher and Stiles, who rule by his side.





	The Surrender

**Author's Note:**

> I'm working on the Surrender idea trying to develop it into a novel. In the meantime I am having fun writing these characters as vampires, so this might become a series with occasional updates into the world of King Peter Hale.  
> Pisaac-heavy in the first chapter. There will be a second to this story.

I’ve been pondering this for a while. This caprice of mine. Before I can stop myself, I blurt it out.  
“I only want to be yours, Master.”  
I instantly regret it, but I can’t swallow words that have already flown like moths to certain death.  
My throat is parched, but it isn’t water I seek.  
  
The King gazes down at me lovingly, his eyes colored bronze by sated appetite.  
“What troubles you, child?”  
I watch his crimson smile turn to a frown, my blood still freshly staining his lips. A rill of it runs from the corner of his lush mouth down to the edge of his chin.  
I want to lick him clean but instead he presses three of my digits against his tongue and suckles. A whiny moan shakes me when his cheeks hollow.  
Glistening pink, saliva infused with blood, he uses my fingers to wipe off the dried discoloration.  
  
“Tell me,” he orders before pecking the tips.  
I sigh. Anything I’m thinking seems fickle and poorly articulated. I can only speak from the heart.  
“I love only _you_ , Master. I don’t want to be passed around anymore. Can’t I be yours and yours alone? I beg you.”  
  
A cool palm caresses my cheek, and it’s like silk on a winter day.  
I lean into it, a kitten seeking cuddles. I’m pathetic. My entire body screams for any kind of touch from him, my most intimate parts burning in desire.  
My Master nudges me as he leans down for a kiss. When I taste myself on him, coppery and sweet against lips so chilled it's like drinking a cocktail, I groan.  
The tip of his muscle teases mine, lunging and disappearing. Sweeping and retreating.  
  
My heartbeat thrums in my ears. I know he’s listening.  
“Please,” I whimper.  
We touch foreheads, and he chuckles.  
“Silly silly boy.”  
  
I hate myself for being so needy. But he has made me so. With his love. His blood. His sex.  
I’m at his feet, limp like a rag doll, except for the erection tenting on my groin.  
My large azure eyes plead once more.  
  
He can read my thoughts.  Scattered and desperate as they are, but they come from a place of love.  
“Hush, pet.” The lilt of his words and the soft whisper of the _sh_ against my neck are enough to send me into ecstasy.  
“Your soul is too uneasy Isaac. Come here.”  
  
He pats his knees as he beckons me to straddle him. His eyes have almost returned to their normal ice blue.  
The height of the feed is passing.  
  
I immediately obey, positioning myself halfway to his chest.  
  
I’m clothed only in the white linen tunic. This is the standard uniform for my kind. The front is held together with loosely tied ribbons, and we wear no undergarments. Everything is to allow easy access to our masters.  
The fabric bunches around the tops of my muscular thighs, revealing my turgid member springing from a dark patch of pubic hair.  
One of his hands wraps around the shaft, squeezing my base.  
  
“Ugh,” I croak. “My King…”  
My sex is so hot and his hand is cool. Ice on sun-kissed skin.  
It’s maddening.  
  
“Is this what you want, pet? Is this what you crave?” he murmurs, fangs scraping gently on my collarbone.  
Every tiny stab forces my body forward.  
I nod, head thrown back. “Yes, Master. Yes.”  
I’m breathless. He has all of me and I’m powerless to deny him my flesh.  
  
He tugs from hilt to the head, pulling the foreskin over the glans with a twist. I’m coming apart.  
I move towards his cock with a trembling hand, but he shakes his head.  
“No, Isaac. This is for you.”  
   
I rock on him, his shoulders my balance. He strokes the entire length with his left, my breath ragged. As he thumbs my slit with his right, he gauges his pumping to knead my dick at its crown.    
I thrash under his ministrations, lamenting all my pleasure as I grind into his legs and crotch.  
  
The King whispers phrases I can barely hear in a voice that’s liquid gold, lulling me to orgasm. I’ve already been glamoured. He needn’t bother hypnotizing me with his promises.  
“Isaac, my sweet Isaac… I love you. Cum for me. Cum for your Master.”  
A wrist is thrust against my thirsty lips and I lap, just a few drops of his precious serum.  
My senses explode as soon as I sample him.  
  
I reason in color. The scents in the room invade my mind with reds, oranges, and yellows. A tapestry of lust.   
I’m gasping as the coil rises within me.  
“Te amo. Tu semper mecum. Tu semper meus ventus erit,” he recites.   
  
If it’s an incantation, it works. I don’t know what he says but his words are blue. Cerulean blue. The blue lifts me to the sky like a bird.  
I look into his eyes and they’re blue and I’m a blue bird and I… I… _I’m coming_.  
My seed spills onto my tunic in disjointed twitches, my longing assuaged as I break on him.  
“Ugh… fuck… ugh…”  
  
He holds me, tightly pressed into his comforting breast by powerful arms until my shaking subsides. Five fingers twirl among my light chocolate waves, my cheek against his.  
I cry, thanking him in hiccupy spurts of affection and gratitude.  
  
Kings don’t normally do this. They don’t pleasure their pets without getting release. Often they care nothing for the lower’s satisfaction.  
But not King Peter.  
He addresses me by my name, wiping the tears from beneath my reddened lids.  
  
“Isaac. I love you my child. Never doubt that. _Te amo. Tu semper mecum. Tu semper meus ventus erit._  I love you. You will always be with me. You will always be my favorite.”  
I nod, still shaken. My world is veiled in color and right now I see the sunset.  
Everything is a blazing orange. I can almost taste its sticky sweetness.  
  
“Buddha once said, ‘Thousands of candles can be lit from a single candle, and the life of the candle will not be shortened. Happiness never decreases by being shared.’ Remember that, my love. I share you with Stiles and Christopher because they are my princes. Do you understand? It’s not to do you any harm or injustice. Were it possible I’d keep you for myself, but you were gifted to royalty.”  
  
I know. I was being petty. I should be grateful I ended up where I am, and not in some young vampire’s cold and distant attentions.  
Sometimes my love for Peter Hale clouds any judgment I may have. I possess no self-restraint.  
  
“Thank you, my King. I apologize.”  
Peter grins and fondles the back of my neck. “Don’t be sorry pet. These are just the rules. But never forget,” he leans down and covers my mouth with his. “Never forget I love you best. Okay? If love doesn’t bring us down to our knees, what should?”  
He bids me to rise. “Stiles is waiting for you, Isaac. He’s with Christopher in their chambers. Be as kind to them as you are to me.”  
I bow. “I always am, my King.”  
“I know, Isaac. I know. Now go.”  
  
Peter looks as I take my leave and I wonder if he truly does love me. It draws a certain sadness out of my soul.  
  
I exit through the large wooden doors, stopping along the hallway until I reach the washroom.  
I shower quickly, scenting myself in something spicy. I remember Prince Christopher likes to be reminded of his travels in the East.  
I change into a fresh tunic and attempt to tame my wavy mane. An affection-starved boy looks back at me from the mirror.  
  
Judging myself ready, I walk until I reach the Princes’ chamber. I knock and a deep voice from within grants me access.  
Slow steps until I reach the foot of their bed. The older vampire, Christopher, lays sheathed in silk up to his sculpted abdomen, a large bulge hidden under the younger’s palm. They are ready to be satisfied in every sense.  
I study how pretty they are. Both men are beautiful, just in different ways.  
I’m always rather taken aback when I come to service them.  
  
Christopher commands through a strong gaze. Sometimes it cuts through me. He is demanding, but always kind.  
The younger, Stiles, has a different coloring and a less temperamental disposition. While Christopher has salt and pepper hair and a matching beard, the other is warmer. Soft brown hair and eyes the color of honey glaze. Velvety skin over tight muscles. Maybe because he appears to be my age, I fear him less.  
Stiles reminds me of autumn. His stories make me laugh and he puts me at ease. When Christopher is finished with me, I watch the younger. I get lost in his fluttering lashes when he feeds and cums inside me while whimpering praise… it’s something inebriating.  
  
Stiles reaches for me now, throwing back the covers. “Come, Isaac. Join us.”  
I climb between them, thinking I’d rather be in the King’s bed. But this is who I am. This is what I was born to do.  
  
My name is Isaac Lahey and I am a Surrender. 

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed this. :) I know I had fun writing it.


End file.
